The house we stayed in looked like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air house.
We saw where Michael Jackson died.
Leo had an urgent bathroom moment outside Gucci in Beverly Hills.
ICONS
Los Angeles is iconic - thanks to movies, music, TV and a big sign.
It should have been New Jerseyland. The US’ fledgling film industry quit the east coast in 1910 due to licensing fees and awful weather ruining primitive moving image cameras.
A director tried filming in a village near sun-baked oil town LA and told his industry pals. The village had almost been called ‘Hauling Wood’ - but its founder edited its name to Hollywood.
By 1915, US movies made Brit Charlie Chaplin the most famous and well-paid person in the world.
The Beach Boys further popularised LA and California in the 1960s.
Baywatch – the most-watched US TV export – appealed to a new generation in the 1990s.
And the big sign helps. HOLLYWOODLAND's 40ft high letters were erected in 1923 to advertise as housing development. The last four letters were later scrapped.
LA IS COLD. REALLY.
But it's time to bust some LA myths.
The sea is cold. It's only bearable without a wetsuit in summer.
Most beaches have no surfers.
It’s not hot most of the year. Average maximum summer temperature as LA's main beach Santa Monica? 21C. London’s average is 22C. But LA does gets hotter inland, the area which also has mild 19C winters.
The traffic is not that bad. 10-lane freeways running right through the city (unlike London) mean driving is much faster than underground trains (unlike London).
Hollywood Boulevard is only four blocks of neon; the Oscars theatre is buried inside a shopping mall; and the only star we saw there was a meaty striped raccoon bigger than a fat cat.
Disneyland is five times smaller than Paris’ Disneyworld.
FRESH PRINCE & BAYWATCH
Some LA stereotypes are true.
It's massive. 20 San Franciscos would fit into LA’s 50×20 mile sprawl.
Hazy beach sunsets over lifeguard huts look like the Baywatch credits (minus Hoff/Pamela slow-mos).
Some houses really do look like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air set. I was waiting for Carlton and Big Phil to come down the sweeping staircase.
Some roads have 16 lanes.
They love sport. I counted 64 beach volleyball courts on just two beaches.
We skated the San Diego beach prom (Leo joined us in his pushchair); I played volleyball with spring break uni kids and basketball with Mexicanos; and we met one of the world’s top 20 ice hockey high school players training on the skate hockey pitch at our local park.
We hired a compact car but were given the smallest available – a $30,000 three-month old Chrysler 300 super-saloon so fat it was a struggle to squeeze into parking spaces.
In palm tree-lined Beverly Hills and the twisting Hollywood Hills, we see Jacko's house, where Britney Spears shaved her head, Tom Cruise’s old pad, David Beckham's mansion… and where the guy from Colombo lived.
Even the normal news is interesting. One day's LA Times newspaper business section alone contained: Facebook sold data to get Trump elected; US accesses travellers’ phone data via airport security scans; robot-driven car kills pedestrian; MGM chief executive quits.
And I almost spat out my sensational kettle popcorn when two 10ft dolphins leapt fully above breaking waves.
WE GOT OUR KICKS TO FINISH
On the last night of our three months in the USA, at Leo's insistence, we battled the cold to eat ice cream (Leo: “Ice, ice, I-C-E!”) on Santa Monica pier.
At my insistence, we danced to an electro-violin pop music busker.
At Nati’s insistence, we battled the gale to walk to the right to the end of the pier.
I'm glad we did.
It turns out the end of the pier is also one end of the legendary Route 66.
It neatly summed up LA: It all starts here.
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